


The Christmas Party

by laceymcbain



Series: Shadows & Stone: Smallville Stories [6]
Category: DCU, Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Christmas, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protectiveness, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-20
Updated: 2011-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceymcbain/pseuds/laceymcbain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark's going to the LuthorCorp Christmas Party with Chloe and Lex is going with Bruce.  The party's bound to be full of surprises.</p><p>Part 5 of 6 (complete) in what is affectionately known as "The Green Pigs and Ham" story arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Christmas Party

_DEC. 22_

"Clark, is there something wrong with your breakfast?" Jonathan asked. He'd been watching Clark push eggs around on his plate for the last ten minutes, and he'd had enough.

"Huh?"

"Your breakfast," Jonathan repeated, gesturing towards Clark's still half-full plate. "Something wrong?"

"Chloe asked me to go to the LuthorCorp Christmas party with her. It's tonight."

Jonathan smiled despite the mention of LuthorCorp at his breakfast table. Chloe Sullivan. Well, that was a pleasant change. Maybe Clark was finally coming to his senses. "That's great, son. I always liked Chloe."

Clark stared at his father with disbelief. "Dad, this doesn't change anything with Lex."

Jonathan sighed. He should've known it wasn't going to be that easy. Nothing ever was with the Luthors.

"So, what's the problem, son?" He hoped his voice sounded understanding. This was really more Martha's area of expertise.

"It's Lex. And Bruce. I don't know. It's complicated." Clark stabbed savagely at the sausages on his plate.

Jonathan took a deep breath and wondered where Martha had disappeared to. She couldn't possibly have any more wrapping left to do after last night's marathon. He still had marks from where she'd made him hold the ribbons to be tied--he rubbed absently at his index finger. And why she felt she needed to go out and buy presents for two billionaires was beyond him. They didn't even know Bruce Wayne, and Martha's declaration that every young man needed socks seemed to be based on some kind of female logic Jonathan clearly didn't have the ability to grasp.

Jonathan looked longingly towards the closed basement door where the sounds of scissors and tape could just be heard. What the hell could that woman be wrapping at eight in the morning, three days before Christmas? He turned towards Clark and put on his best fatherly face.

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

***

Lex rolled over. Well, at least he _tried_ to roll over. Something was blocking his way. He opened his eyes, letting them adjust to the pale light of morning. He dragged one arm out from under the blanket.

He'd had the most bizarre dreams. Falling and drowning, ice-cold and fever-hot, full of whispers and breathless kisses, and eyes that shifted from green to black before disappearing altogether.

Lex yawned and scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. His arm felt numb, and he was surprised to see fresh needle marks bruising the inside of his elbow. He stared in confusion and tried to focus. He was pretty sure he'd remember shooting up, although he wasn't sure why he'd do something like that. He'd promised years ago that he'd never do it again, and he hadn't. Not once since that night. That god-awful night when he and Bruce were seventeen and the world had almost ended. He'd promised--when a promise meant everything between them.

Bruce.

Lex realized with some concern that the something hampering his ability to move was Bruce, who was wedged against him, trapping the covers around him like a cocoon. Lex poked him experimentally. Nothing. Jeez, he hadn't seen Bruce sleep like that for years, and never without serious sex beforehand. Lex put a hand to his head and tried to remember last night. He was pretty sure he'd know if he'd had sex, and if it had been with Bruce, there would likely still be bruises. Sure, he was sore, but not that kind of sore. So, not sex--something else. Lex shook his head, but the fog in his brain refused to lift. It'd been a long time since he'd lost a whole block of time without a concussion.

He took a moment to listen to Bruce breathing evenly, head resting on the pillow beside Lex. Bruce must be exhausted. Lex reached out a finger and smoothed it across Bruce's forehead, the skin under his fingers relaxing slightly at his touch. He looked younger like this. It was hard to resist the urge to curl up beside him and stay that way, the two of them, exactly like when they were kids. Lex had woken up so many times to find himself in Bruce's bed, or Bruce in his. Nightmares driving them into each other's arms long before they'd ever discovered sex.

Whatever had happened--and Lex was beginning to suspect that his rapidly fading dreams were probably closer to reality than he wanted to remember--it had taken a toll on both of them. Lex shifted towards the edge of the bed, trying not to wake Bruce, and promptly fell onto the floor.

He lay there for a moment contemplating how every muscle in his body seemed to be screaming, when a messy head of dark hair peered over the edge of the bed.

"Lex? Are you okay?"

Lex nodded, the motion making the room swim in new and interesting patterns. "You're all tousled, Bruce." The word rolled off his tongue like it was the best word ever. Lex felt the triumph of discovery, imagined himself like Columbus sailing off the edge of the known world. Tousled.

When Lex opened his eyes again, Bruce was on the floor beside him, arms circling him and holding him in a sitting position. He shivered at the touch of Bruce's warm skin. The room was freezing.

"I don't think I've ever seen you tousled," Lex whispered.

"Yes, you have, Lex." Bruce's tone was tolerant. "You just don't remember. You're a bit fuzzy this morning."

Lex snickered and wondered if he was drunk. Everything seemed to strike him as amusing. "I haven't been fuzzy in a long time."

A hand rubbed over Lex's scalp with a familiarity bred from years of friendship. "True."

"What happened to your hair?" Lex asked, still fascinated by Bruce's hair. It could've taken first-prize in a competition of post-modern art. It was beyond tousled--it was positively artistic. He watched as Bruce glowered at the mirror and tried to get his hair to flatten. It appeared to be a losing battle, something for which Lex was profoundly grateful for a reason that escaped him. Tousled was a good look for Bruce. "I like it."

"It was wet when I ... that bastard!" Bruce said suddenly, snatching a note off the mirror.

"Who?"

"Toby. _‘You needed the sleep. No need to thank me.'_ Bastard!" Bruce rubbed at his neck. "He stuck me with a sedative."

"Bruce?" Lex had a lot of questions, but he was having trouble sorting them into coherent sentences. He was also having trouble getting off the floor.

Bruce looked at him, and shook his head. There was an odd mix of sympathy and anger in his eyes, although Lex knew the anger wasn't directed at him.

"Shower first, Lex. Toby-- _fucking bastard_ \--said the heat would help. Come on." Before Lex could protest, he found himself being hoisted over Bruce's shoulder and carried to the master bath.

That's when he realized why he was so cold.

He was completely naked.

***

Martha emerged from the basement in time to hear Jonathan telling Clark that he needed to tell Lex exactly how he felt about things, and that it was just fine to go to a party with a friend as long as she knew it didn't mean anything more. Martha could've hugged him.

She stood at the top of the stairs and watched as Clark bounced up from his seat, grinning from ear to ear, and headed for the door. Martha thought back to her conversation with Lex last night, knowing how desperately he wanted to make things right with Clark.

She said a silent prayer that Clark would find the answers he wanted at Lex's mansion.

***

Lex leaned against the tile wall of the shower, letting the warm water ease his aching muscles. He'd always wondered why people put seats in their showers, but this morning he was grateful for the sinuous curve of marble that gave him a place to rest while his body tried to decide whether it was going to co-operate with him or not. So far, it had refused all simple instructions that involved walking or standing. While being carried naked into the shower by Bruce hadn't been on his agenda for the day, he'd been forced to acknowledge the necessity of it when Bruce had let him try to make it on his own.

To his credit, Bruce hadn't let him hit the floor. Nor had he laughed--much. Lex thought he'd left the need for a shower partner to stop him from cracking his skull open on the tile floor behind with his adolescence, but apparently not.

"I don't really remember any of that," Lex said as Bruce finished his recap of the previous night's events.

"I'm not surprised." Bruce turned the second showerhead on full blast. He stepped under the scalding water and rubbed his hands over his face, shaking his hair like a wet dog. Lex felt drops of water hitting him in the face.

"Stop that."

"You used to be more fun in the shower, Lex," Bruce said, pouring shampoo into his hand and lathering it into his dark hair. The scent of melon filled the air, and Lex felt his stomach roil.

"We're tossing that shampoo as soon as we get out of here." Lex leaned over, closing his eyes. Immediately there were hands on his shoulders, and Bruce kneeling in front of him, shampoo dripping down onto his shoulders.

"Well, if you're going to throw up, this is as good a place as any." Bruce's voice and hands were gentle, and Lex let his head rest against Bruce's bare chest.

"You're sure it was the scotch?" Lex asked weakly, trying to keep the contents of his stomach in place. He thought fondly of the twenty year-old scotch he'd been planning to crack on Christmas Eve. It didn't seem so appealing anymore.

"I'm not sure of anything." Bruce stood up, and Lex watched him move gracefully under the showerhead.

Water loved Bruce, sliding along the curves and angles, spilling in silver droplets towards the floor. Lex let his gaze linger on Bruce's body--a body he knew as well as his own, and far better than Clark's, if he was honest. Every scar, every imperfection, he'd mapped and re-mapped with fingers, lips, and tongue. Bruce noticed his look and returned the smile affectionately, knowing they were well beyond modesty with each other.

"I don't know if Lionel had anything to do with it. He was notably absent last night. I'm not even sure he knows you were ill."

"I wasn't ill, I was fucking drugged," Lex said, anger fuelling his voice. "In my own house. Probably by my father."

Lex struggled to his feet, slipping as the strength went out of his legs, and then Bruce's arms were under his shoulders, and the two of them were on the tile floor in a wet tangle of limbs. Lex laid his head on Bruce's shoulder, and he was struck by the ludicrousness of his life. Water rained down around them, and Lex began to laugh. Even to his own ears, it sounded strange, echoing against the tiles. Bruce didn't do anything, didn't say anything, just let Lex laugh until his muscles unclenched and he felt like himself again. Finally, Lex pulled back and looked at Bruce, hair plastered flat against his head, a half-smile on his face, shampoo bubbles sliding down his chest, and naked on the shower floor.

"You know what would make this even better?" Lex said, running a hand through Bruce's wet hair, causing it to stand up in sharp peaks. Bruce shook his head with irritation and let the water flatten his hair again.

"Please say sex," Bruce grinned. Lex leaned into his shoulder, laughing again, and felt a hand on the back of his neck.

"Behave."

"Toby stuck me with a needle, and you almost died. I don't think I'm asking for too much," Bruce said smoothly, rubbing Lex's neck affectionately.

"Be serious." One look at Bruce told Lex he wasn't exactly being facetious, but there was no expectation either. Lex wanted to kiss him hard for that, thank him for being there when the world was more fucked up than ever. For being Bruce.

"I've never been more serious in my life. Sex would definitely make up for practically freezing to death in this shower last night." Bruce reached up a hand and turned the tap until steam rose around them in small puffs.

Bruce leaned back, making no secret of the path his eyes were taking across Lex's body, as if Lex were a complex riddle that needed to be solved. Lex didn't object to the scrutiny. Bruce had always made him feel admired, wanted. It'd been years since they'd had any secrets from one another.

"Okay, Lex, back to your question. What would make this better? Even better than you and me naked on the floor of your shower--and the answer doesn't involve sex." Bruce ran a hand over his chest, washing the soapy remnants away.

"Lex, are you here?" Clark called from the bedroom.

"That," Lex said, and started to laugh again.

***

The laughter got louder as Clark pushed open the door to the master bath and a wave of steam rolled over him.

"Lex, I waited ‘til the helicopter left. I figured it'd be okay to come up." He stopped when he realized the amount of flesh reflected in the shower door was unlikely to be just Lex, unless he'd put on an awful lot of weight and grown dark hair overnight. Clark took a step backwards, one hand on the door, preparing to flee.

"Don't run, Clark," Lex said, getting control of his laughter. "Please. It's not what it looks like. Oh, shit, I still can't seem to stand."

Clark frowned. That last bit clearly wasn't directed at him, and he saw the other shape in the shower shifting, moving closer and finally the two shapes merging almost into one as they rose to a standing position. The glass door swung outwards, and Clark blushed as a very naked Bruce emerged half-carrying a naked Lex.

"Help me get him to the bed, Clark," Bruce said, seemingly oblivious to his own nudity. Clark was beginning to think the man had no sense of embarrassment. "You can kill me later."

Clark swallowed what he suspected was a less than witty retort, and took Lex's other side. Between the two of them they got Lex to the bed and laid him shivering between the covers.

"How long did Toby say the effects were going to last?" Lex asked, pale against the dark bedspread. Bruce, still naked, handed him a glass of water and a small green pill.

"You know Toby. He didn't."

Clark's brain finally caught up. "Toby was here? Why? What happened?"

"Long story," Bruce and Lex answered at the same time. Clark glared at them. This was the last time he was dropping by the mansion unannounced. Ever.

"I'm going to grab some clothes," Bruce said, apparently realizing he was naked, as Clark tried--not very successfully--to look anywhere but at Bruce's naked body. He couldn't help noticing the thin white line of a scar stretching down his side. Clark wondered how a billionaire CEO got a scar like that. He wondered what else he'd find if he x-rayed him.

"Clark?" Bruce was staring at him. "Can you start a fire? The heat should help."

Clark had a sinking feeling Bruce was repeating something he'd already asked and failed to get an answer to. Because Clark had been staring. At Bruce. Naked. Shit.

"Uh, no problem."

Clark hoped his immediate turn towards the fireplace would cover his embarrassment. And his erection. He flushed even brighter, as he tossed logs haphazardly into the grate. Bruce disappeared into the other room, and Clark peered at the stacked logs in the fireplace. They burst into flame instantly. No surprise since Clark was one step away from bursting himself. He tried not to think about Lex lying naked just a few feet away, but it was like thinking of pink elephants--impossible to let go of once the thought was there.

Bruce pushed through the door, pulling a black t-shirt over his head. Did the man own anything that wasn't black? Clark caught the look of surprise as Bruce glanced at the roaring fire.

"That was fast," Bruce said.

Clark shrugged. "Boy Scout."

"I bet. And without matches too. Clever boy." Bruce was watching Clark carefully, and Clark bit his lip. Stupid. Bruce was way too observant. He was going to have to be more careful around him.

"Bruce," Lex chattered from the bed. "Leave it alone; it's been a long night."

"And you don't even remember most of it," Bruce said, leaning against the door. His eyes settled on Clark. "Sit down, Clark. There've been a few developments you need to know about."

Clark looked for the nearest chair, even as he wondered why he automatically obeyed when Bruce told him to do something. He didn't owe the man any kind of allegiance. He didn't even like him. He'd just found him in the shower with Lex, for Christ's sake. Naked. And he was trying really hard not to think about Bruce naked because this situation didn't need any more confusion. He might not be the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree, but he wasn't an idiot either.

Clark knew what naked showers meant.

And right now he was so thankful he hadn't said that particular thought out loud. Sometimes he even amazed himself with the stupid things that came to mind. There were days when he couldn't figure out what Lex saw in him.

Clark realized both Lex and Bruce were staring at him, waiting for him to do something.

He sat.

***

Clark had clearly heard enough. He bounced out of his chair like a puppet on a string, and Lex waited for the explosion. "What the hell were you thinking? You should've called me!"

Bruce took the outburst in stride. "And what could you have done? It would've only confirmed to Lionel that you're involved, and that's the last thing we want."

"It wasn't your decision!"

"I did what I thought was best." Bruce glanced out the window, as a few snowflakes scuttled across the glass. Lex knew what Clark was seeing as indifference was carefully contained emotion. Bruce was as close to the edge as Lex had ever seen him, and Clark had no idea he was rapidly pushing him over it.

"Clark, it's not that big a deal," Lex tried to interrupt. No one paid any attention to him. Typical, Lex thought. He was the cause of all this trouble, and he might as well have been invisible. He wondered what would happen if he just collapsed in the middle of the floor. They'd probably go right on sniping at each other, stepping over his lifeless body as they traded blows in a never-ending game of one-upmanship.

Clark was shouting now--shouting something about love and relationships and responsibility--and Lex just stared. He didn't think he'd ever heard Clark yell at someone on his behalf. It felt kind of nice, except it was Bruce he was yelling at, and nobody who'd ever yelled at Bruce was happy with the result.

"He could've died, Bruce!"

"But I didn't," Lex interjected. No reaction. He lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Do you think I don't know that?" Bruce was rapidly losing his temper, which was never a good sign. Lex sighed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe there'd eventually come a time when putting Clark and Bruce in the same room together didn't result in something resembling world war. He'd had such high hopes for the two of them getting along, but so far it'd been one disaster after another. He supposed it was just another cosmic joke in the life of Lex Luthor that the two people he cared about most were apparently destined to be mortal enemies.

"When were you going to tell me? When he was _dead_?"

Lex really wished Clark would stop talking about dying. It was unsettling. He watched Bruce turn away from the window, absolutely calm. Oh shit, Lex thought. Here it comes. He didn't even have the strength to shout a warning to Clark. The kid was on his own.

"If Lex had died, I would've told you," Bruce began. Lex felt a shiver travel down his spine. Fuck, he knew that voice. It could freeze your blood at fifteen paces--and it stopped Clark dead in his tracks. So the boy had some sense of self-preservation after all. "I would've told you. After I'd razed this fucking house to the ground and hunted down the person responsible. I would've--"

Bruce kept going about dealing out death and judgment in that same chilling whisper, but Clark only looked confused, and Lex knew why. This was going to be bad. He could see Clark tumbling Bruce's sentence over in his mind, hearing the sentiment but not quite grasping the words, and he was about to say something infinitely stupid and inherently Clark-like. It was part of his charm, part of what Lex truly loved about Clark, but he doubted Bruce would feel the same way. He didn't have a lot of sympathy for ignorance, and Clark had always had trouble with the difference between razed and raised. It had considerably slowed Lex's recounting of Alexander the Great's campaign against Persia.

"I don't think you can raise something to the ground--" Clark interrupted in the middle of a complex analogy about toothpicks and bones, and Lex closed his eyes. He'd been on the receiving end of Bruce's anger on more than one occasion, and it was never a painless experience. This could be catastrophic.

"What? No, razed with a ‘z', you ... what the hell are they teaching you in school?" Bruce appeared momentarily thrown. "Hasn't Lex taught you anything?"

"Leave me out of it," Lex murmured from the bed, not expecting either of them to hear him at this point.

"I can't believe he hasn't subjected you to Alexander's campaign against Persia in glorious detail," Bruce said.

"Hey!" Lex summoned enough energy to sound indignant. Everyone loved his account of the Persian campaign. It was a classic. He'd had requests to do it at parties. Of course, most of those requests had come from drunken Classics graduate students who hadn't had a date since high school, but still, it was the crown jewel in his historical repertoire, and both of them knew better than to mock it.

"Oh, he has. More times than I can count." There was something just a little pathetic in Clark's tone. Lex finally knew what Caesar must have felt like when Brutus's sword pierced his body. Or maybe it was the effects of Toby's pills wearing off.

For the first time, Clark and Bruce looked at each other with shared understanding, and Clark grinned brightly. The temperature in the room seemed to raise about ten degrees. Even Bruce wasn't immune to that smile. He leaned back against the wall and let out a breath, and something resembling a smirk skittered across his face. Lex wasn't sure he liked this new alliance if it came at the cost of maligning his historical accounts.

"I'm sorry, Clark."

Lex did a double-take as he listened to Bruce apologize. Again. Lex wasn't entirely certain, but he thought Bruce might be expressing sympathy for Clark having to endure Lex's rendering of the Persian campaign, but Lex chose to believe he was showing regret for being one step away from calling Clark a moron. This apologizing was becoming a bizarre new habit with Bruce, and Lex wasn't entirely certain he liked it, although he couldn't say why. The thought of Bruce and Clark agreeing was somehow more disturbing than them arguing.

"I would've called if it was that bad, but it was more important to protect your relationship at the time. And I'd do it again if I had to." Lex knew Clark couldn't miss the note of challenge underlying Bruce's tone.

Clark's eyes narrowed. So much for the initial truce. Well, it was probably best the two of them didn't bond over Lex's shortcomings as a historical narrator.

"Helicopter," Bruce and Clark said at the same time. Lex looked up. He certainly didn't hear anything, but he knew better than to doubt either of them.

"How did you hear that?" Clark didn't bother to hide his outrage; he really didn't like it when other people demonstrated remarkable abilities.

"Sonar," Lex supplied helpfully, ignoring the death-glare Bruce shot his way. Not for the first time, he was thankful Bruce didn't have any sort of incendiary vision, and so far the Bat-Goggles had failed to prove effective in igniting anything larger than a tealight.

"How did _you_?" Bruce returned, unblinking.

"That means Dad's back. Clark, you have to go home," Lex said, looking from one to the other. Why were they both still standing there examining each other? Heroes, Lex thought. They never knew when to leave things alone.

Without warning, Clark strode across the room and kissed Lex fiercely, apparently not caring that Bruce was right there. Lex didn't even have time to close his eyes as Clark's lips found his, pushing him back against the pillows Bruce had stuffed under him as if he was made of glass and about to be shipped by international post. The kiss was awkward and messy, but it was Clark, and Lex breathed in the warm smell of apples and hay. He managed to get a hand in Clark's hair and held him close for a moment longer. It felt good to taste him on his lips, and it was with real reluctance he let him go.

"I love you," Lex whispered. Clark's smile lit up the room.

"I love you too," he said loudly. "I'll see you tonight."

Lex watched as he disappeared through the door in a flash of white teeth and plaid.

"What's tonight?" Bruce asked.

"I have no idea."

***

They managed to successfully avoid Lionel for most of the afternoon by escaping for a ride that consisted mostly of Lex holding his saddle horn in a death grip while Bruce led his horse to the farthest edge of the pasture, away from prying eyes. Once they entered the woods that bordered the property, Bruce tied their horses to a tree and reached his arms towards Lex.

"Are you out of your mind?" Lex said, clutching the saddle tighter. The ground seemed a hell of a long way down. After the ordeal of getting him on the damn horse--a procedure that had involved Bruce, an overturned bucket, and the not entirely delicate application of a leather strap, which Lex would just as soon forget--he was in no hurry to get off.

"You need to walk this off. We can't go back to the mansion with you acting like a jelly-fish."

"I will have you know that the jelly-fish is one of the most fearsome creatures to rule the sea."

"Whatever you say, Lex. Play Portugese-Man-O-War on your own time. Right now, you're getting off the damned horse and walking around, even if I have to dump you headfirst into the snow."

"What happened to ‘don't die on me, Lex; I couldn't live without you, Lex'?"

"Although both sentiments are true, neither is something I've said recently. You have a fondness for misquotation and remembering only the bits of conversation that serve your immediate purpose."

Lex rolled his eyes, gripping his thighs against the shifting mount. Portia whinnied a complaint while Brutus pawed at the ground restlessly beside her. Lex considered reminding Bruce about his promise to raze the mansion to the ground if Lex had died, but he really had no desire to open up that particular topic of conversation because it would end up being about Clark's inability to differentiate homophones. Lex sighed. And that was something he could never say to Clark lest it turn into a discussion on society's intolerance of same-sex couples. There was just no way to win with those two.

Lex glanced down to see Bruce smirking. "What?"

"Finished your interior monologue?" He raised his arms up to Lex. "Come on. I won't drop you. Promise."

Lex leaned into Bruce's embrace. "I've heard that before."

"I didn't drop you," Bruce said defensively.

"We both fell the last twenty feet when that stupid rope broke."

"The Bat-rope didn't break." Bruce sounded like he was clenching his teeth. Lex could see the muscle in his jaw flexing ever so slightly as he talked. "The Bat-arang was an early design and couldn't hold in Excelsior's deteriorating masonry."

"I broke my wrist!" Lex felt strong arms steadying him as Bruce manoeuvred him off the mare.

"I broke your fall."

"My wrist hurt more."

"But I didn't drop you," Bruce asserted, stepping back until Lex's legs were free from the horse and resting on the ground. He was as wobbly as a new colt. "See? Safe and sound."

"As dismounts go, it could've been worse," Lex mumbled into Bruce's shoulder. He felt weak and didn't object when Bruce held him for a moment, letting him gather his strength.

"I've always rather liked your dismounts." Bruce chuckled, and his warm breath tickled Lex's bare scalp. "Spectacular."

"Oh, shut up."

***

When they returned to the stables, pink-faced and cold, Lex was tired, but there was no evidence of last night's trauma in his appearance or his gait. Bruce watched him dismount with no sign of weakness. They brushed the horses and put the tack away, chatting about nothing in particular. It felt good. It felt entirely too normal.

It made Bruce uneasy.

"Would you quit worrying?" Lex said as they walked back to the mansion. "Whatever was in the scotch is long since gone, and whoever put it there isn't going to be stupid enough to try anything else. Besides, it didn't work. I mean, if it was supposed to kill me, it failed, and if it was supposed to poison me slowly, well, that failed too."

"Only because normal people don't heal the way you do." Sometimes Lex's ability to heal made him entirely too reckless for his own good.

"Well, then we're lucky I'm not normal." Lex stopped just outside the door and grabbed the front of Bruce's jacket in his gloved hands. "Come on, Bruce. If it was Dad, he wasn't trying to kill me. We both know that. He wants something else."

"And I want you alive and healthy." Bruce put his hands on Lex's shoulders and squeezed. "So does Clark."

"The two of you agree on something?" Lex asked smugly, reaching for the doorknob. "Stop the presses!"

"Let's just say Clark and I share a common goal--keeping you alive--in spite of your best efforts to the contrary." Bruce held him a moment longer. "Don't act like nothing happened. You almost--"

Bruce saw the doorknob turning under Lex's hand, and in the space of a heartbeat, he'd pulled Lex behind him and backed them both away from the entrance. The door swung open to reveal Lionel Luthor in a black tuxedo.

"Lex, I was just about to come find you," Lionel said. Bruce doubted it. More likely he'd spotted them on one of the mansion's exterior security cameras.

"Both of you," he added, taking in Bruce's protective stance. "Anything wrong? You boys seem like you've been avoiding me."

"Not at all, Mr. Luthor. Just enjoying some time alone."

Bruce didn't shift his position, despite Lex's less than subtle kick at the back of his calf. He knew Lex was half-stuck behind him, pinned between Bruce and a rosebush, but Bruce felt no obligation to move. Better for Lionel to know Lex wasn't alone, wasn't vulnerable. Bruce really would raze the mansion to the ground if anyone hurt Lex, and he had a pretty good idea Clark would be there helping--even if he didn't have a clue what raze meant. The kid was young and reckless, but Bruce liked him. His heart seemed to be in the right place where Lex was concerned, and that was what really mattered.

"Of course." Lionel stepped back and beckoned them into the entrance. "But I was concerned. You're sure everything is all right? You look tired, Lex."

Lex's grin was coy. "Vigorous exercise will do that, Dad. Really, I'm as fine as a twelve year old scotch."

Bruce cringed inwardly. Lex never knew when to leave well enough alone, and there was something about volleying with Lionel that brought out the absolute worst in Lex. He didn't miss the note of triumph in Lex's face when Lionel's smile slipped for a fraction of a second before he clapped his son on the shoulder.

"Glad to hear it, my boy," Lionel said, turning to go. "I thought perhaps you'd forgotten what tonight is."

Bruce paused as he slid his jacket onto a hanger. Clark had said he'd see Lex later, and he'd sounded absolutely confident about it. Bruce had a sinking feeling Lex had forgotten something profoundly important.

"Of course not," Lex answered smoothly. Bruce looked at him, the too-wide grin, the bright eyes, and knew immediately they were royally screwed. Lex didn't have a fucking clue what was going on tonight. "Was it 7:30?"

"Seven," Lionel said. "And it wouldn't do to be late, Lex. Not with LexCorp's already shaky beginnings."

Something corporate then. A meeting? A fund-raiser? Bruce made sure his face gave nothing away. It was getting close to five now, but with a few phone calls, he had no doubt they could figure out where and at what they were supposed to be before seven o'clock. Finding a tuxedo that fit was going to be a more pressing issue. He hadn't thought to bring one.

Lionel nodded curtly and started off down the hall. Lex was standing there looking thoughtful, as if the answer to where they were supposed to be tonight was going to appear on the wood panelling at any moment.

"I've ordered the limo to take me out to the plant, but I suppose you'll be taking one of the cars?" Lionel called back.

"Yes," Lex said, suddenly alert, and Bruce almost grinned. Thank God, Lex had remembered. "I think we'll take the Jag. And you might want to lose the tux, Dad."

Lionel glanced down in momentary confusion.

"It's just a staff Christmas party. It wouldn't do to come across as pretentious."

Bruce followed as Lex slid past his father and headed for the staircase. Even so, by the top of the stairs, Bruce had to run to keep up. By the time they were racing down the hallway, Bruce knew it had nothing to do with Lionel and everything to do with Lex feeling like himself again. He couldn't even object when Lex pushed past him with a sideways body-check that sent Bruce careening into the wall. Lex burst through the doors of his bedroom and proclaimed himself the winner of the first annual Luthor Christmas Party Sprint. Bruce dragged himself through the door, breathless from laughing, and watched Lex's face light up with unfettered joy.

Before Bruce realized what was happening, Lex had pushed him backwards onto the bed, his arms pinned over his head, and Lex's mouth was melting into his. Bruce couldn't do anything but submit as Lex's tongue flickered over his urgently, tracing and re-tracing imaginary lines that made shivers ripple across Bruce's skin.

This was nothing like the kisses they'd shared in the hallway a month ago, all form and pretense, mouths performing scripted roles for an audience. This was like being hit dead-on with a furnace blast, and Bruce found himself relaxing his lips, giving Lex as much access as he wanted as he stroked him inside with a clever, knowing tongue. Lex's hands pressed his wrists into the bed, prevented him from touching, and the world seemed to spin on the axis of Lex's tongue. He couldn't imagine why his brain was telling him he should stop.

There was the sound of a throat being cleared.

"Yes, Dad?" Lex said with exasperation that didn't appear to be feigned. Apparently, Lex didn't appreciate the interruption any better than Bruce did, and Bruce wasn't sure what that meant.

"I just wanted to check if you'd invited the Kents to the party." Lionel seemed mildly amused by the image of Lex straddling Bruce on the bed.

"Why would I? They don't work for me. It's an employee Christmas party."

"No matter. I expected you might invite Clark along."

Lex appeared bored by the question. "In case you hadn't noticed, I already have a date."

Bruce didn't miss the subtle grind as Lex pressed against his groin. Bruce took his cue, giving a smile and a little wave to Lionel, trying to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head as Lex shifted. What the fuck was Lex doing?

"Yes," Lionel said awkwardly. "I'll leave you to get ready." The door closed with a quiet thud. For a moment neither of them moved.

"He has abominable timing." Lex sat back on his haunches, letting go of Bruce's wrists.

"Without him, we wouldn't have known about the Christmas party."

"I would've remembered." Lex started to slide off, but Bruce grasped his hips and held him in place. They needed to talk about this, about what was happening.

"Not so fast," he said. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

Lex shrugged and didn't meet his eyes. "Keeping up appearances. We're supposed to be--"

"I know what we're supposed to be, Lex. Lionel wasn't anywhere around when you--"

"We have to get ready," Lex said, shifting off the bed with his usual grace, and this time Bruce let him go. "Did you bring a suit? Of course you did." Lex headed for the bathroom. "I'm taking a shower."

Bruce lay on the bed, hard and confused, staring at the bathroom door. He heard a faint click. It had been a long time since Lex had locked a door against him, and that was usually only when he was pissed off. What the hell was happening to them? He was beginning to think this whole visit had been a really bad idea.

***

The water beat down upon his skin like the lash of a whip. Lex leaned one hand against the tile and reached for his cock with the other. A dozen short hard strokes, and he was panting hoarsely. Images of Bruce and Clark flitted through his mind, merging into a continuous stream of flesh and mouths and tongues.

Fuck. He stroked harder.

Clark's warm skin, soft gentle lips, big hands touching him as if he might break. Clark's mouth tasting like sunshine, and the feel of his cock in Lex's hand, hard and aching just for him. Then there were Bruce's dark eyes and sharp teeth, hands that knew every rib and muscle on Lex's body, the way his tongue would push inside ... Lex groaned and felt the pulse of semen in his hand as he came.

It was going to be a long night.

***

The ride to the plant was relatively quiet. Lex kept waiting for the axe to fall, but so far Bruce hadn't said anything about what had happened that afternoon. It was only a matter of time. He'd known Bruce too long for him to just let it go.

Lex sighed. He'd liked it better when they hadn't felt the need to talk everything to death. Of course, they'd been fucking then, and that had always, always taken precedence. They'd found better things to do with their mouths than talk.

"Penny for your thoughts," Bruce said.

"Cheap bastard." It was an old joke. Students at Excelsior had made a science out of seeing how much money they could extort from their classmates in various ways. Information was always a commodity worth selling.

"If I gave you a hundred, would you actually tell me what's on your mind?"

"Make it a thousand," Lex countered. "We're here."

He turned the car into the plant. It was just seven o'clock and the lot was already full. Lex sincerely hoped he'd hired someone to organize this damn thing because if not, he was probably going to be lynched. He had a vague recollection of contracting some woman from Metropolis to handle the whole affair, so he hoped she was as good as her reputation had claimed.

A slip of green and white paper fluttered in front of his face. "Put that away," Lex said, navigating across the parking lot. The bastard actually had a thousand dollar bill out. "What the hell are you carrying that around for?"

"Security." Bruce tucked the money back into his wallet. "Never know when it'll come in handy. So, does this mean you'll talk to me?"

"Not now, Bruce."

Lex noticed his parking space was already taken by a vehicular abomination that couldn't seem to decide if it was a car or a truck. It looked like something that had been caught in an unfortunate transporter accident on _Star Trek_ , and Lex was willing to swear that particular shade of orange had never occurred in nature. The bumper proudly proclaimed the owner was a member of the NRA and regularly honked for the love of Jesus. He wanted to avert his eyes, but found himself helpless to do so.

"No respect for the chain of command," Bruce said, eyeing the monstrosity currently taking up Lex's private space and most of the one beside it. "Or for basic aesthetics. That person works for you?"

"God, I hope not."

Lex dragged his eyes away and steered towards the far end of the lot, scanning for any available space. Apparently every person he'd ever employed and all of their family members had turned out at the expectation of free food and drink. It promised to be a hell of a party. Or possibly just hell.

"That one has a gun rack in it," Bruce said with interest, peering out his window into the darkness. "Actually, most of these vehicles do. Should I be concerned?"

"It's Smallville. It's standard issue."

"And yours is in the trunk, I presume?"

"Along with the shotgun, yes." Actually there was a shotgun in the trunk. And a handgun. But it was probably best not to mention that. Lex didn't want to seem paranoid, but he'd learned that taking precautions wasn't a bad thing in this town. Nor was a loaded firearm.

"There's a spot," Bruce pointed. The Jag slid to a stop, neatly tucked between two four-wheel drive trucks, and Lex killed the engine. A warm hand on his thigh stopped his exit.

"I can't do this now, Bruce" Lex said, not looking up. "I have to deal with this party, my father, and a roomful of employees who generally don't like me or my name."

"And Clark."

"What?" Lex asked, startled.

"Clark. He said he'd see you tonight."

Lex shook his head. "There's no reason for him to be here." He reached for the door, but Bruce didn't loosen his grip.

"Nonetheless, he's going to be here. And Lionel. This isn't the time for rash behaviour."

"Don't you think I _know_ that?" The words came out venomous, and Bruce let him go. Lex rubbed a hand across his temple. "I'm sorry, I--"

"Let's go," Bruce said.

By the time Lex had gotten out of the car, Bruce was already halfway across the parking lot, lost in shadow.

***

"This is nice," Clark commented, looking around the room. It had been decorated with silver and blue rather than the traditional red and green and it made everything look somehow more polished and professional, but no less festive. There were snowflakes hung from the ceiling at varying heights and they seemed to twinkle and sway as people moved through the room. They gave the appearance that a light snow was falling. "I never knew the plant had a full gym."

Chloe sipped her punch. "Yeah, it's pretty cool that employees get to go all ‘Body by Jake' on work time. I guess being able to exercise is supposed to keep them happier. I mean, they do work at a crap factory."

"Having fun you two?" Gabe Sullivan broke through the crowd and slung an arm around Chloe's shoulder.

"Sure, Dad," she said. Clark didn't miss the slight slip of her smile. He knew Chloe wanted more than he could give her, but he didn't see any way around hurting her. He'd tried to be as honest as he could be, short of telling her he was involved with someone else, but Chloe was the eternal optimist, and Clark couldn't shake the feeling she hadn't given up.

"The room looks great, Mr. Sullivan."

Gabe nodded, pleased. "That woman Lex hired from Metropolis did a good job. And she's got all the kids corralled in a separate area with Santa and his helpers, so the parents can have a break. I think Lex is definitely going to earn points for this party."

"Speaking of Lex," Clark started, but Gabe had seen someone on the other side of the room and was off with a wave of his hand. Clark swallowed the rest of his sentence along with his punch.

"Come on, Clark," Chloe said, suddenly grabbing his glass and setting it down. "Let's dance."

***

Lex caught Bruce by the arm outside the entrance. He'd had to run to catch up to him, and in spite of their light-hearted sprint down the hallway earlier in the day, he had no desire to chase Bruce across a parking lot.

"Just stop," Lex said, winded. Even with his rapid recovery time, he still wasn't feeling one hundred percent, and he wasn't in the mood for a fight. Actually, if he was honest, he was exactly in the mood for a fight, which made it the worst possible time to be at odds with someone who remembered every stupid thing he'd ever said or done. He'd deal with Lionel, and Clark if he had to, but he couldn't bear to spend the evening dodging bullets from Bruce as well.

"Please," Lex added, and Bruce's glare softened slightly. "I need at least one person on my side tonight, and you're it. I can't do this without you."

"And I can't do this when I don't know what's going on." Bruce's expression was unreadable. "You don't want me baiting Clark--"

"No."

"--and I don't like being baited either."

"Clark's not--" Lex interjected.

"No, he's not," Bruce said firmly. Lex felt the full weight of Bruce's gaze. "You are."

Oh. Lex swallowed awkwardly and thought back to the scene in the bedroom. He hadn't known Lionel was there, and Bruce knew it. He could sense Lex's emotions the way a lion senses weakness in a herd. They knew each other too well, too intimately. Maybe it was because they'd been boys together before they were men, but they seemed to inherently know the nature of each and every touch. A squeeze that meant comfort, a hug for reassurance, a touch that could mean friendship as easily as lust. They knew the difference, and that one kiss said something far more dangerous than being naked together in the shower, and they both knew it.

"Be sure of what you're doing, Lex." A step closer until they were breathing the same air, and Lex smelled the unmistakable scent of Bruce's cologne. It hit him like a memory. "Be very sure."

Then Bruce was moving again, tugging him gently towards the light and the noise of the party, and Lex had no choice except to follow where Bruce led.

***

Clark moved awkwardly to the music. Left foot, right foot--he was never quite sure where to put his hands or how to step so he didn't crush Chloe's feet--and in spite of his mother's assurances, he felt big and clumsy. Dancing was a lot more complicated than anything else he'd ever done, but Chloe seemed happy, so Clark did his best not to embarrass or injure either of them. She was chattering away about the next issue of The Torch and the Christmas presents she'd picked out for Pete and Lana, when suddenly she fell silent.

Clark looked down at her. "Did I step on your foot again?"

Chloe was looking at a point beyond him when a smile broke over her face. "I see what Lana meant," she said. "Lex's boyfriend is really hot."

It took a minute for Clark to realize what Chloe was talking about, and another moment for him to notice the room had grown quieter. He turned around in time to see Chloe's dad greet Lex warmly, and then Lex was introducing Gabe to his companion.

Clark had known Bruce would be there, but somehow he still hadn't been prepared for it. Lex was wearing a classic black suit, jacket cut slightly longer for evening, and a deep blue shirt. He looked really good, Clark thought. Bruce was standing just behind him, one hand pressed to the small of Lex's back, and looking much too comfortable at his side.

"Black's a good look for him," Chloe murmured. "I like the turtleneck."

Clark cleared his throat, and she snapped out of her reverie. "Sorry, I just--wow, I've never seen Lex with somebody before--I mean, a guy, and well, wow--they look really good together."

"Chloe?" Clark slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. If it was a little closer than he'd been holding her all evening, it was just to get her attention. She let out a startled breath as he spun her around. "Let's dance."

***

Bruce watched as Lex excused himself from a group of employees and walked towards him. The easy sway of his hips, the confident smile. Lex owned the room, and he knew it. Bruce felt a small surge of pride. It was ridiculous, he knew, but given what Lex had dealt with in his life, the times Bruce had sworn he was going to wake up to a phone call telling him Lex had died tragically and under questionable circumstances, it was amazing to see his transformation into corporate titan. He was still all Lex, but it was a grown-up Lex, and that might have been the most attractive thing Bruce had ever seen. Lex sauntered into his personal space and swept the drink out of his hands.

"What is this?" Lex said, trying not to make a face.

"Punch. Apparently made with some sort of carbonated beverage and fruit juice. The woman doling it out was more than happy to provide the recipe if you're interested."

"Is there any alcohol in this?" Lex eyed the pink liquid hopefully.

"Not a drop. I thought you'd want to lay off the alcohol for a while."

Lex nodded, but his eyes were elsewhere. Clark and a young blonde woman in a short red dress were laughing and talking in the middle of the dance floor. It seemed like Clark was apologizing for stepping on the poor girl's feet. Again. Bruce didn't hide his smile. It was nice to see teenagers being teenagers.

"I fear for her toes," Bruce said directly into Lex's ear. He saw Clark's head tilt towards them with the hint of a scowl. Interesting, Bruce thought. Either Clark was the most suspicious person on the planet, or his hearing was utterly remarkable. "So, Lex, care to show them how it's done?"

Clark's head snapped up so suddenly he looked like he'd given himself whiplash. Really exceptional hearing, Bruce thought. He could pick out a whisper in a crowded room. At thirty feet away.

"I don't think Smallville's ready for you and me on the dance floor," Lex said absently.

"Who said anything about dancing?" Bruce whispered. The glare Clark was sending Bruce would've melted the polar ice caps.

Lex looked at Clark, then back at Bruce. "Don't."

It was a warning and a request, and something else Bruce couldn't quite place. An inkling of fear, and maybe that wasn't a bad thing under the circumstances. Clark's secrets were so close to the surface Bruce could see them flitting beneath the waves like fish. He didn't care what they were--not really--but he cared that those secrets were putting them all in danger, and anyone who looked closely was going to see what Clark was so bad at hiding.

And Lionel was definitely looking.

"I have something to do," Bruce said, shaking his head at Lex's inquiring gaze. "Try to stay out of trouble."

"You too." Bruce felt Lex's eyes on his back all the way to the door.

***

Clark watched as Bruce moved through the room like a shadow. It was as if sound deadened around him, conversations frozen for the half-second it took him to pass, guests shaking off the chill of his presence. Chloe might think he was "hot," but Clark knew it was just the opposite. Bruce was about as cold and unfeeling as anyone could get. He eased through the door and out into the hallway. Clark saw Lionel follow him a few seconds later.

And they were back to cloak-and-dagger. Great.

"May I have this dance?" Lex's smooth voice interrupted his thoughts, and Clark found himself red-faced and stammering.

"Lex, um, hey."

"I think he means me, Clark," Chloe said, grinning as Lex graciously offered her a hand. "Unless you really want to--"

"No!" Clark protested, too embarrassed to think straight. "I'll get some punch."

He gestured in the general direction of the buffet and fled the dance floor, wondering if Chloe had any idea how close she was to the truth of things. Clark gulped down a glass of punch, watching as Lex easily twirled Chloe around the gym. She looked beautiful in Lex's arms--glowing and happy. She almost seemed to sparkle. Clark felt a twinge of regret that he couldn't love her. It would've made his life a whole lot easier if he'd just been normal in this one thing.

He drank his punch and watched as one song ended and another began, and still Lex and Chloe danced. Several people had stopped to watch the two of them, and Clark couldn't blame them. Lex moved as if he'd been born to dance, giving the impression the music responded to his movements rather than the other way around. It was breathtaking and sensuous, and it made Clark think of sex and what it would be like to move in rhythm with Lex, to be one with him, bodies fused together in passion.

He blushed and looked away, grateful for once that no one was paying attention to him. He slipped into the hallway unnoticed, listening for the sound of Bruce's voice. He was getting better at being able to pick particular voices out of a crowd, although it still mystified him that Bruce seemed to have hearing almost as good as his. Did everyone Lex knew have some kind of freakish abilities? It was beginning to look that way.

Clark said hello to a few people he passed, then moved towards the offices. He could hear Bruce and someone else talking. Clark eased himself into the shadows and listened.

***

"I'm disappointed, Bruce," Lionel said. "A man of your reputation for getting things done. I expected so much more from you."

"That might work on your own son, Lionel, but it doesn't work on me." Bruce folded his arms against his chest and waited. This was not going as he'd expected. Lionel appeared to be tired of playing games, and Bruce had a bad feeling their house of cards was about to come crashing down around them.

"So what will work? Money apparently doesn't. You've given me absolutely nothing useful about either Lex or the Kent boy. Some meaningless drivel about Cadmus Labs, and Lex's attempts to secure funding for LexCorp. Frankly, I'm surprised he hasn't asked _you_ for the money he needs."

"Maybe he has."

"No." Lionel sounded confident. "LexCorp is on the brink of being subsumed back into LuthorCorp. If you'd given him anything, he would've already acted." Lionel appeared thoughtful for a moment. "Although, someone's been quietly acquiring LuthorCorp stock under a variety of cover names, and all I've been able to discover is a small Asian company named Dynamics. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

"Afraid not."

He and Lex had been extremely careful when they'd set up that particular corporation. They'd done it years ago, when they were still in high school. It had been an exercise in seeing if they could do it: set up a dummy corporation that was virtually untraceable. And they'd succeeded. Masterfully. They'd never really needed it for anything important, and Bruce only used it rarely, just enough to keep the company active and above suspicion.

Lionel came closer and surveyed Bruce with interest. "Something more tangible, perhaps. More visceral." Lionel leaned in and it took every ounce of resolve that Bruce had not to move away. "You seem to be a man of diverse interests."

"Not that diverse." Bruce heard a barely audible "ugh" from outside. Perfect. Someone needed to teach Clark that eavesdropping wasn't polite.

"The ancient Greeks took great pride in their pursuit of pleasure." Bruce didn't look away, didn't flinch as Lionel trailed a single finger along the edge of his cheek. "You might be surprised to find the father more knowledgeable than the son."

"Philip of Macedon is remembered for being a one-eyed bastard who was jealous of his son. I'll take my chances with Alexander."

Lionel stepped back and laughed. "What Lex doesn't know could fill the library of Alexandria."

"I grew up with Lex. I'm the last person who needs a history lesson, Lionel."

"Those who don't respect history are doomed to repeat it. Remember, Alexander the Great died young and tragically. As did his boyhood friend, Hephaestion."

"Many rulers died from poisoned drink, but a few lived to tell the tale."

Lionel's eyes grew wide for a moment. Bruce could tell he was trying to decide if he'd just been handed information or threatened. To be honest, Bruce wasn't entirely sure of his own intention, but the statement was out there now, and there was nothing he could do about it. Bruce decided to take control of the conversation before things got even more out of hand.

"What exactly do you want that I'm not giving you, Lionel? You tell me what you want, and I'll tell you what I want."

Lionel seemed to weigh the question for a moment, a hand ruffling his long hair as he considered. "All right. But you go first."

Bruce took a deep breath. This could keep them in the game or destroy everything. He had to be careful. Not give too much away, not appear to be holding back either.

"I want Lex," Bruce said. It was the easiest thing to convince Lionel of because it was true. Lex had been at the heart of his life for so long wanting him was no different from the need for food or water. It just was. "I want him healthy. Alive."

"I can assure you I want him alive as well." No lie there, and it was absolutely clear Lionel knew about the scotch. Probably about Toby being at the mansion too despite their best efforts at subterfuge. It was hard to hide things there--too many ears and eyes. A thin layer of regret was the only admission Bruce would ever see, and it was more than he needed. Lionel had certainly been behind the poisoning, but to what end? It seemed to serve no purpose.

"If anything happens to him and I find out you're behind it," Bruce stated calmly, "your life won't be worth anything."

Lionel smirked, nodding. "What else?"

"The LuthorCorp plant in Gotham City. Close it. Sell the property to me."

Lionel looked genuinely surprised. "We're not in direct competition with Wayne Enterprises. What purpose--"

"You asked what I wanted. I want you to stay out of my city."

"Consider it done," Lionel said. "My turn. LexCorp is fighting a losing battle, and I want Lex to lose. If by some miracle he manages to keep it afloat, and I find out you had anything to do with it, I'll destroy Wayne Enterprises and everything you care about." It wasn't an empty threat, and they both knew it.

"I could've written him a cheque any time. I haven't. And I won't."

"Even if he asks?"

Bruce couldn't resist pointing out how little Lionel knew about his son. "Even if I offered, he wouldn't take it."

"Why?"

"He doesn't do business with friends."

Lionel seemed to consider that point and filed it away for future reference. Bruce hoped it wouldn't come back to haunt them. He hoped Dynamics could stand up to Lionel's scrutiny because it was almost a certainty that Lex was going to need the resources there, and soon. Bruce was going to have to talk to him about it in the morning.

"What else?" Bruce asked, knowing they were only at the tip of the iceberg. It was what he couldn't see about Lionel's demands, what he wasn't saying, that could sink them all.

"Keep Lex occupied. He's been very focussed since he's been in Smallville, and he's starting to push into places he has no business in. Family history."

"Afraid of letting a few skeletons out?"

"Believe me, those skeletons will hurt Lex more than anyone else. I don't need to remind you what happened to Julian."

Bruce hadn't thought he'd ever hear Lionel say that name again. It was as if the child had been completely erased from the family history. Even Lex hadn't mentioned him in years.

"Yes, I know what happened," Bruce murmured. Bruce had no desire to revisit that.

"So convince him to stay away from the past. It will only lead to trouble."

Bruce hated to admit it, but he almost agreed with Lionel on that front. Anything Lex was going to find out about Luthor family secrets was bound to lead to misery, and probably serious therapy. Maybe some things were best left buried.

"Last thing. I want Clark Kent."

Bruce steeled himself. This was going to be tricky, especially with Clark outside listening. He silently hoped the boy had enough sense to stay out of things he didn't understand.

"I'd think a penchant for attractive young farm boys should be fairly easy to satisfy in Kansas."

"Don't play with me," Lionel said, moving forward so swiftly that his hand was on Bruce's throat before he'd moved a muscle. Bruce forced himself to relax, fight back the immediate reflex to defend himself. It didn't pay to overplay his strengths with Lionel. The man was too canny, too suspicious. "You know there's something different about him. Something remarkable. No one can spend time with him and not notice it. Lex is protecting the boy--I'm certain of it--and I want to know why. I want Clark Kent's secret."

"What makes you think Lex knows?"

"He has to," Lionel said with certainty.

"And even if he knows, why would he tell me?" Bruce moved his head, and Lionel relaxed his hold, letting his fingers trail over the soft wool of his turtleneck as he moved backwards. There were some details of this particular meeting Lex didn't need to know. No one needed to know his father was that creepy.

"He trusts you." There was a note of contempt in Lionel's voice.

"Lex doesn't trust anyone."

"You're wrong." Lionel smiled at him, and there was something too knowing in his look. "He trusts you. Like no one else. He lets you move inside his personal space like a tree that's been allowed to grow up through a crack in the cement. You were in his space long before the walls went up, and he's let you stay. You must've done something to earn that place."

"We were friends." Even to his own ears, it sounded hollow.

"You were lovers." It wasn't an accusation. Lionel had clearly made up his mind about their history, but strangely the word didn't fit any better. Bruce knew there would never be a single word that could adequately describe who they were for one another.

"We were kids." It was the truth, and yet it wasn't. In some ways, the two of them had never been kids.

"The fact remains that Lex trusts you," Lionel said.

"So why should I betray him?"

Bruce wondered when it had gotten so warm in the room, when Lionel had moved close again, when he'd stopped worrying about protecting Clark and started thinking about what Lex's skin felt like against his, the remembered heat of Lex's mouth and tongue.

"Because," Lionel whispered like a serpent in the dark, "as long as there is Clark Kent, Lex will never be yours."

***

"Thank you for the dance," Lex said, giving a courtly bow to Chloe. He glanced around, but Clark was nowhere in the room.

Neither was Bruce.

Or his dad.

Lex rubbed at his eyes tiredly. That couldn't possibly be good.

***

It was the way of these things to return to the party at different times by different routes so as not to raise suspicion. Lionel left first, and Bruce waited for the inevitable Sturm und Drang arrival of Clark. Three ... two ... one ...

"I heard everything, so don't try to deny it." The doorknob left a sizable dent where it connected with the office wall. Which was made of solid concrete. Bruce watched a puff of grey dust dissipate and crumble to the floor.

"Deny what, Clark? With the way you were scuffing your dress shoes, it's a wonder Lionel didn't know you were outside too. You're just asking for him to tie you down and ship you off to a lab somewhere."

Clark looked positively green. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means."

"Did Lex tell you--"

Bruce stood up and dragged Clark into the room, shutting the door. He pushed him into a chair and loomed over him, trying to remember if he'd been this stupid at seventeen. Or ever. "Lex has told me nothing. He wouldn't betray a confidence like that, not even to me. But I have eyes, Clark. You're stronger, faster, and hear better than anyone I've ever met."

Bruce pointed at the doorknob-shaped dent in the wall. "That doesn't happen when most people open doors."

"I--I was upset."

Bruce reached for the door and yanked it open with all his strength. It connected with a soft sound, the doorknob just grazing the wall, and Clark started to stammer out an excuse. His eyes were wide as saucers, and Bruce suddenly had a disconcerting thought. Saucers. Jesus Christ. It would certainly explain a lot. Trust Lex to fall in love with ...

Clark was butchering a sentence about weak plaster and titanium doorknobs, and Bruce cut him off. "Besides routinely breaking walls, you're almost impervious to harm, except for your allergy to green pigs." Clark's indignant glare didn't even faze him. "And nothing seems to scare you--even the things that should. Lionel Luthor should definitely scare you, Clark. He scares the hell out of me."

"Then why are you helping him?" Clark asked plaintively, and it was clear he didn't understand any of this. He was a boy who wanted life to be simple and happy, and most of the time Bruce suspected it was. The question was how to explain something Bruce wasn't even sure he understood himself.

"It's called playing both sides against the middle." Lex spoke from the doorway, and Clark was across the room and in Lex's arms before Bruce could blink.

"Get in here," Bruce said, giving the two of them a shove as he pulled the door shut.

***

Bruce stepped into the gym, pleased to see the party appeared to be in full swing. No one seemed to have noted their absence. Bruce glanced at his watch. He'd told Lex he'd give them fifteen minutes to work things out, and then he was going back for them.

He saw Clark's date standing by the buffet table, looking upset. She was a pretty, blonde girl with big blue eyes and a dress meant for dancing. Fake diamond earrings sparkled on her ears. It looked like her dad was trying to cajole her into taking a spin on the dance floor with him, but she wasn't having any of it. She bit the head off a cocktail shrimp savagely. Bruce wouldn't want to be in Clark's shoes when he returned.

Mr. Sullivan gave a quick nod as he saw Bruce approaching, but he was already moving to chat with someone else. The man was always in motion. He seemed likeable and competent, and Lex had a lot of respect for him.

"Enjoying yourself?" Bruce asked the blonde girl.

To his surprise, she glared at him. "I really wish people would stop asking me that. Don't I look like I'm having a good time?"

Bruce considered the scowl. "Well, to be honest, no. I'm Bruce Wayne."

"Chloe Sullivan." She held out her plate. "Shrimp?"

"I think I'll pass," Bruce said politely. "We both seem to have lost our dates."

"You get used to it." Chloe ate a crab puff and took a drink of punch.

"Clark disappears a lot, does he?" Bruce asked.

"Oh, he always has a good reason. Off saving Lana or Lex, or the world. Hey, maybe he's saving Lex since he's missing too." It sounded like someone had spiked the punch or she'd found something with alcohol. There was a shake in her voice that said the evening had been too long and not entirely what she'd hoped. Bruce took the punch glass and plate, setting them on the table. She stared at him, uncomprehending.

"I propose that the best revenge is to be having a wonderful time when they come back." Bruce took her hand and led her to the dance floor, slipping an arm around her waist and watching her lips curve into a smile.

"Revenge," she slurred softly. "I like the sound of that."

***

"You need to stop smiling like that," Lex said, as they walked down the hallway.

"Haven't you ever heard that expression ‘smile--people will wonder what you've been up to'?" Clark made no attempt to hide his ear-to-ear grin.

"If you keeping grinning like that, people won't have to wonder," Lex whispered. "Subtlety is lost on you, isn't it?"

Clark nodded and attempted to straighten his tie. Rumpled and red-faced, Clark looked beautiful. They'd barely had time for a quick grope in the office after Clark had finished filling him in on Bruce's conversation with Lionel. Lex had tried reassuring him that Bruce was completely trustworthy, but Clark had clearly felt better being able to talk about it. So between kisses that only managed to leave them both hard and frustrated, Lex had gotten the gist of a conversation Bruce would no doubt be recounting for him later anyway. If he could only figure out a way to get Clark to prioritize sex over talking, fifteen minutes would've probably been enough.

"Try not to look like I've been corrupting you, okay?" Lex muttered as they pushed through the door into the gym. Their arrival barely caused a ripple among the happy, half-inebriated partygoers. His father was nowhere in sight. Lex's eyes were immediately drawn to a dark-haired figure standing a head above everyone else on the dance floor. His eyes flickered over Bruce's form as he watched him pick Chloe up effortlessly, spinning her around and around as the song came to an end. Bruce caught his eyes as he deposited Chloe breathless and flushed back on her feet, her laughter bubbling up like champagne, and Lex remembered what it was like when Bruce wanted to be charming. It was intoxicating.

"Hey, Chloe," Clark called to her, breaking into Lex's thoughts. "I see you met Bruce."

Chloe flung her arms around Bruce's neck and kissed him full on the mouth. Lex grinned as he watched Clark's startled expression. Bruce was too polite to look surprised, but Lex could read it in his eyes.

"I _love_ Bruce. He dances like a Greek god."

"You should see him in a toga," Lex volunteered, ignoring Bruce's icy look.

"Are you drunk, Chloe?" Clark's voice was all amazement as he took her by the arm.

"Yup." Chloe's head bobbed in agreement.

"You got her drunk?"

Lex almost snickered, but caught himself in time. Clark was being so serious about defending Chloe's honour, and he didn't seem to have a clue how Chloe felt about him. Maybe they were all too good at dancing around their feelings. He and Bruce had certainly perfected their steps years ago.

"I'm not the one who left a beautiful woman alone all evening," Bruce pointed out. Chloe pulled herself out of Clark's grasp and leaned into Bruce, resting her head against his shoulder. Lex could see she was starting to list to one side. In the background, he could hear people gathering up their coats and bags, wishing each other goodnight and Merry Christmas.

Lex laid a hand on Clark's arm. "Perhaps you should take Chloe home, Clark. I'm sure Gabe would appreciate it." Clark looked like he was about to protest, but thought better of it. He blushed, and held a hand out to Chloe. She didn't look like she wanted to leave Bruce's side. It was kind of cute.

Bruce took Chloe's hand and kissed it. "You were charming company, Chloe. I'd be delighted to be your dance partner anytime."

"Thanks, Bruce," she said beaming. "Come on, Clark. You can take me home now." They disappeared into the crowd.

Lex looked at Bruce carefully, noticing how his cheeks were slightly flushed from dancing, how his eyes were playful and warm. Lex had missed him more than he'd ever imagined he could, and it didn't feel strange or unnatural when he did something he hadn't done in a long time. He offered Bruce his hand. The room was still half-full of people, and Lex ignored the quizzical look Bruce gave him even as he reached for him.

"Let's go home," Lex said.

***

Lex lay on the bed in sweats and a t-shirt, watching Bruce move silently through a series of tai chi forms. He'd long since forgotten the names of the movements, but he appreciated the grace of Bruce's small shifts. Long fingers cut the air effortlessly, black silk pants tight against his muscular thighs as he stretched and moved. The firelight danced across his bare chest casting shadows there. Lex wondered if the scar on his side still hurt him, if it felt the same. If Bruce would flinch when he touched it. The shift from ‘if' to ‘when' barely registered with Lex, although his heart beat a breath faster.

He wanted to touch Bruce. It had been a long time.

Logs crackled in the background, Vivaldi drifted from the speakers, and Lex turned the events of the evening over and over in his mind. He heard Lionel's footsteps in the hall. They stopped briefly outside, as if listening at the door, then continued on. He'd apparently moved from the blue room, although Lex had no idea why.

"I suppose we should be making more noise." Bruce finished his exercises and stretched out on his stomach beside Lex. "He's going to think we're not very exciting."

"We're not." Bruce's skin was warm beneath his hand, the muscles in his back taut and hard. Lex traced a shoulder blade, stopping at a star-burst scar.

"That's new." Lex resisted the urge to press his lips against it.

"Psychotic ninjas with heated throwing stars. One got past me."

Lex rubbed it lightly. Without asking, he reached back towards the nightstand and extracted a small bottle.

"If I didn't know better--"

"But you do."

Lex rubbed the oil into his hands, the smell of orange and cloves filling the air as he massaged the muscles in Bruce's back. A soft murmur of pleasure told him it was the right thing to do. He couldn't be bothered to worry about lines tonight; he had too much on his mind. A shift, and he settled above Bruce's back, hands kneading the grooves of his spine, spreading out in wide fans across his shoulders, relearning every mole and scar and muscle. He stroked a firm hand down the old scar on Bruce's left side.

"Does it still hurt?" Lex asked.

"Sometimes."

It was almost a ritual with them, this touching of scars. They each had them, some hidden in places no one would ever see, some blatant and sharp like the cut on Lex's lip, the knife scar on Bruce's side. Fingertips traced the raised edges of the scar.

"I remember thinking it was big when we were nine. It's grown."

"We've grown. But everything was big then." Bruce chuckled against the bedspread, but didn't resist Lex's touch. "You were a runt."

Lex decided against a vigorous protest and settled for pressing hard into the muscles of Bruce's back. The air smelled like an orange grove before a storm.

"Lex, if that's supposed to be retaliation for calling you short, you're failing miserably."

Hands slid easily over Bruce's flesh, working out the knots that had built up from two days of stress. Lex wondered if they were destined to ever have ordinary lives.

"We're not ordinary men," Bruce said, and Lex grinned. Apparently he'd let his inner monologue out again.

"Maybe we should take a vacation."

Bruce raised his head. "I believe I suggested that two days ago. What changed your mind?"

"I don't mean now--at Christmas. I mean, sometime."

"What about Clark?"

Lex's hands stopped moving. He sighed, and then Bruce was shifting under him, turning over until he was staring into Lex's face. Lex had been hoping they could avoid this conversation. He considered what he could do to make Bruce forget about talking, but he had his doubts Bruce would let him. He was too good a man. Far better than Lex. He wondered if Clark knew that; Lex suspected he didn't.

"Lex." Bruce grasped his wrists lightly. "Do I need to get that thousand dollar bill?"

"Depends what services you're looking for."

Lex knew it was a mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth. This was his curse--to ruin everything good. He was flat on his back before he could apologize, pushed down by the weight of anger and frustration and years of history.

"Why do you do that?" Bruce said, forehead pressing against Lex's, his mouth unbelievably close. Lex could flick his tongue across it if he wanted to. He considered what it meant that he was seriously considering it. "Why do you always pick a fight when things are going well? Does Clark know you do this? What am I saying? Of course, he does."

Bruce was apparently uninterested in what Lex had to say. It was probably for the best, as Lex suspected he was likely to say the wrong thing anyway. At least this way, Bruce didn't have a reason to strangle him. Or leave. And Bruce pressed against his skin, even angry, was better than nothing.

"Do you remember when we were sixteen, Lex?"

Lex closed his eyes against the onslaught of memory. Another ritual of sorts. The response tumbled from his lips automatically. "I remember."

"We're still alive," Bruce whispered, and waited for the answer that had been the same every time they'd had this conversation. Except tonight.

"What if we aren't?" Lex opened his eyes, and Bruce was already shaking his head, knowing that Lex was changing everything.

"God, Lex. You just can't accept that life doesn't have to be painful all the time, can you? We're alive. We survived. That was the deal."

Yes, that was the deal. They'd kept each other alive and mostly sane until the end of high school, and then they'd disappeared into different worlds. They'd seen each other since, come together on rare occasions when one or both of them needed it, but mostly they'd been connected by a cell phone, and sometimes not even that. Lex wasn't convinced they'd survived at all. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's back and pulled him tight.

"Lex."

"Don't talk."

Lex wrapped his legs around Bruce's and arched against him, exposing his neck. Bruce had never been able to resist his bare neck, and this time was no different. Lex felt the grab of teeth and lips, the hot sucking pressure that dragged a moan from his throat, and in an instant Bruce's broad hands were under his back, searching for skin. Lex shifted his hips, spread his thighs further apart, and then there was silk and hardness sliding against him, his own cock already leaking.

He'd been hard for hours.

"Is this really what you want, Lex?" Bruce murmured, tongue tracing the curve of Lex's ear, and sucking on his lobe until Lex thought he couldn't take it anymore. He dug his nails into Bruce's back and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

Bruce sat back only long enough to tug Lex's shirt off, and then he was biting his way down Lex's chest. Lex closed his eyes, hands tangled in thick dark hair as Bruce found a nipple. A rough bite, then the soothing lick of Bruce's tongue. Fingers rubbed the other nipple raw while Bruce kissed and sucked at Lex's throat, and Lex thought he might come from just this.

Lex didn't want to do anything except let it happen.

"Tell me this is what you want," Bruce said, fingers rippling across Lex's ribs as if they were piano keys.

"Yes," Lex whispered. "Yes."

***

Bruce slid up to Lex's face, and sucked his lower lip into his mouth. Lex's eyes were clenched shut, hands still tangled in Bruce's hair, and Bruce lowered himself on top of Lex carefully. Lex's hands curved over his shoulders and kneaded his lower back, gripped his ass and held him tight.

"Lex." Bruce kissed him, feeling the scar on Lex's mouth with his tongue. It had always been sensitive, and he licked across it, whispering, "Say my name."

The body beneath him stiffened ever so slightly, and Bruce knew this wasn't going to work. He sighed inside and made one more careful exploration of Lex's mouth, slower, sweeter, knowing it would probably be the last time. Lex could feel it too, but he was still fighting to make it happen. Bruce touched his scalp lightly, wishing he could see what was going on in Lex's head.

"Who do you want, Lex?"

Hands clung to Bruce's back. Lex's legs twisted around his, trying to hold onto something he thought was trying to get away. He'd always been so afraid of losing everything. At the same time, he did his best to drive away the only people he thought would ever love him. It had taken Bruce a while to figure that out, but once he'd gotten it, he'd never forgotten Lex went through life believing the worst about everyone, including himself.

"Who do you want?"

And right now Lex was terrified of losing Clark, losing his company and everything that mattered to him, and all it had taken was a few days with Lionel. God, Bruce hated Lionel almost as much as Lex did. He felt Lex's nails leave half-moons scalloped into his skin. He didn't care.

"Tell me who you want." Bruce sucked a bruise into Lex's throat, a small one at the base. It would bloom purple like a violet tomorrow, and Lex would know he was loved. Bruce remembered what that felt like, when they'd counted on those bruises to remind them who they were. "Say it, Lex."

"I want you," Lex choked out. His body was running practically on automatic now. Bruce could feel it--the rush of blood in his veins, the swelling of Lex's cock hard against Bruce's hip. He ground down and watched Lex arch off the bed, eyes still clamped shut. It was a dead giveaway something was wrong. Lex always went into things eyes wide open.

"Lex," Bruce insisted. "Say my name and I'll fuck you. Hard. Like it used to be. Late at night in our room. Or pressed against the wall in the north tower. Do you remember?"

Sometimes he wished he didn't know Lex so well, or loved him less, wished he could look the other way and pretend. If the circumstances had been different, he could've. Maybe if he hadn't met Clark, didn't like him, didn't know how being in love made Lex do the stupidest things imaginable. Like this. Bruce knew he'd never regret being inside Lex one more time, feeling him erupt beneath him. It was like watching a planet explode, the birth of a star. Sex with Lex was the difference between being on earth and going supernova. But Lex would regret it on some level, and Bruce didn't want a lifetime of seeing that reflected in Lex's eyes every time he touched him. Because whatever else happened between them, they were going to be friends for a long time. That was the deal.

"Lex, open your eyes," Bruce murmured. Lex's lips were thin and tight, blue eyes locked away from the light. This was going as badly as any night they'd ever spent, and Lex just wouldn't stop. It was time for a different approach.

He rolled Lex over, seeing his eyes flash open for a half-second before they snapped shut again. Bruce got it. Lex was trying to get lost in sex and destroy his relationship with Clark in one blow. The kid didn't seem like the forgiving sort, but Bruce had learned to be when it came to Lex.

Bruce opened and closed the bedside stand, a telltale vein pulsing in Lex's scalp. Didn't he realize he was broadcasting ‘no' from every muscle? Bruce wondered if any of Lex's other partners had cared enough to notice. He found what he was searching for and grasped it.

"Lex," he murmured. "I want you to fuck me." Bruce pressed the bottle of lube into Lex's hand and folded his fingers around it. "Fuck me--the way you used to. You on top, inside me, looking into my eyes when we both come." Lex was already shaking his head. "I want to know it's you."

"I can't," he whispered.

Bruce took pity on him then. "You can't because I'm not Clark."

Lex flinched, and Bruce wrapped his arms around Lex, shifting the two of them, pulling the bald head down onto his chest. Lex lay there unmoving, breathing hard and obviously trying to figure out a way to get Bruce to do what he wanted. Bruce held him tighter.

"It'll never last with Clark," Lex whispered.

"Certainly not if you keep doing this. The next man might not care so much about your virtue."

Bruce was surprised there was no bitterness in his voice. God, they really had grown up. Or at least one of them had--and maybe that was enough. If one of them could be strong or sane at any given time, maybe they'd survive. They'd managed this long. Bruce relaxed his hold slightly, lifting a hand to stroke gently along the back of Lex's head. Neither of them said anything, just lay in the dwindling firelight, and listened to one another breathe.

***

It was Bruce who finally broke the silence. "You okay?"

"Just wondering why you're still here."

"Where else would I be, Lex?" Bruce brushed his fingers over Lex's scalp. "You have to do a lot worse than try to have sex with me if you want me out of your life."

"Ah, another nefarious plot foiled by Batman."

"Yeah, your evil schemes won't work with me, Luthor."

Lex snickered, relaxing against Bruce's side. Apparently, it was almost impossible to ruin things with Bruce, and God knows he'd tried.

"Isn't there anything I can do to make you give up on me?"

Arms tightened around him, and Lex heard a frustrated sigh. "Trying to get rid of me, Lex?"

"Is it possible?" Lex asked with a hint of concern.

"What exactly in the last fifteen years has given you the impression that there's _anything_ you could do that would make me walk out on you?"

"I'm a bastard."

"Your blood lines are well-established, Lex, but even being a Luthor isn't enough of a reason. However, I prefer you when you're not using me to screw up your relationship with Clark."

"It wasn't just that."

"I know," Bruce murmured, and Lex could hear the smile in his voice. "If it was just that, you might've gotten sex."

"I'll remember that for next time."

Bruce rolled his eyes. "I think we can all live without a next time." He shifted and raised himself up on one elbow, while Lex settled onto his back against the pillow.

"What?" Lex caught a look in Bruce's eyes that was almost wistful. It seemed out of place.

"Yesterday, in the front entrance, you said something." Lex nodded and didn't look away. He owed Bruce complete honesty. He'd been sending mixed signals, and he knew it. "You said I needed to smile more, laugh more." Bruce paused and stared into his blue eyes. "Fall in love."

"I didn't mean with me," Lex whispered, never shifting away.

Bruce's lips quirked into a smile. "I just wanted to check _you_ knew that." He brushed a thumb across Lex's lips. "I know you love Clark. You're so stupidly in love with him you don't know what to do with yourself."

Lex looked away. "That doesn't mean I don't--"

"I know. It's different, and that's okay, Lex. What you have with Clark doesn't change anything."

"Is this too weird?" Lex suspected it was, but he and Bruce had been dealing with weird all their lives.

"No, but I think you'd better stick to sex with only one of us. I don't think Clark's the type to share, and when it comes down to it, neither are you."

"Or you."

"True," Bruce rolled off the bed. Lex grabbed his wrist and refused to let go.

"Where are you going?"

He didn't want Bruce to go anywhere. In spite of what had happened earlier, he didn't think he could bear to have him in the other room. It was screwed up, but he needed Bruce, needed his honesty. He was the only person who'd never left, even when Lex had given him every reason to do so.

"Back to my room."

"Dad's still in the mansion. What if--" Lex knew it wasn't a valid excuse, and after tonight, he couldn't blame Bruce for wanting to be as far away from him as possible.

"Lex, you know this can't go on." Bruce looked down at the slim hand wrapped around his wrist.

"I'm not used to having lines with you." It was true. Their whole relationship had been an exercise in how close two people could be without any limits.

"Me neither, but Clark needs them, even if we don't. You want my advice, Lex?"

Lex propped himself on one arm and nodded. This should be interesting. "This is one of those questions where my answer really doesn't matter, right?"

Bruce held his gaze. "Fuck him. Soon. Handjobs and blowjobs are one thing--"

"Two things, actually."

"–but we both know they don't mean much. Everything changes when you've been inside someone. Had them inside you." It was true. Lex could treat everything else as casual, and although he'd done a pretty good attempt at making fucking casual, it never really was. It was too intimate, in a way that everything else wasn't.

"How do you know we haven't--"

Bruce looked at him fondly. "I've known you a long time, Lex. If you had, this wouldn't be nearly as difficult. For either of us. And tonight would never have happened."

"I'm sorry about that." Lex really was. Bruce deserved so much more than someone who played with his heart the way Lex had.

"I'm not. I wouldn't trade our friendship for anything."

"I think this goes a little beyond friendship, Bruce."

"Our definitions are just broader than most." Bruce extricated his wrist from Lex's hold.

"Stay." The words were out before Lex could stop them. He knew he had no right to ask, no right to expect anything from Bruce, but he also couldn't pretend that he didn't need something from him--even if it was only the comfort of an old friend.

"Fine." Bruce gave an exasperated sigh. "Move over. But at the first sound of a snore, I'm out of here."

***

"If you were a bird, you'd be a bald eagle," Bruce said into the darkness.

He heard Lex give a groan from the other side of the bed. "I said I couldn't sleep. I didn't say I wanted to play this particular game."

"It's what we used to do when we couldn't sleep."

"No, it's not." There was a sharpness to Lex's voice.

"When we were nine, Lex. Honestly, is sex all you ever think about?" Bruce rolled onto his side. He could feel Lex doing the same.

"When I'm not getting any, yes."

"You need to take that up with Clark." Bruce hoped for all their sakes that the two of them connected soon. It would be easier on everyone. "It's still your turn. If I were a bird, I'd be a ..." He waited for Lex to fill in the blank.

"You'd be a bat."

"Bats are mammals, not birds," Bruce said through clenched teeth. Lex had always been so damn difficult. "Just for that, I'll go again. If you were an architectural feature, you'd be a dome."

"Oh, ha-ha. I thought we were past bald jokes."

"Bald jokes are timeless."

"I knew there was a reason I didn't like this game. You'd be a--"

"Gothic window? A balustrade?"

"No suggestions and no interrupting. You know the rules."

"Thought you didn't want to play." Bruce couldn't keep the note of triumph out of his voice. Lex was too competitive for his own good. Even in this.

"Shut up. You'd be a gargoyle."

"Seriously?" Bruce kind of liked the sound of that. Gotham was full of gargoyles, and he'd always had a fondness for them. They made excellent places to perch when one needed a view of the city. Not to mention more than one had saved his life when he'd needed somewhere for the Bat-arang to catch hold.

"It fits. Solid, stoic--"

"Thanks."

"--stony, hunched over, brooding."

"You were doing so well, Lex."

"Shut up, it's my turn. If you were a weather phenomenon, you'd be a tsunami."

Lex knew he had a fondness for everything Asian. It was a rare compliment. "You're in a particularly generous mood tonight, Lex. I'll have to refuse to have sex with you every time I come to visit."

Lex's laughter filled the dark room, and Bruce felt a hand squeeze his arm. They were alive. They'd survived. That was always the deal.

"We're still on weather, Bruce."

"Don't rush me." Bruce thought about it for a moment, feeling the heat from Lex's body even across the space that separated them. "You'd be a desert storm."

"Are you saying I'm a poorly-planned military campaign in the Middle East?"

"I stand by my answer." It wouldn't do to be too complimentary. He had a reputation to maintain.

"You know, anyone else would've chosen something cold. A blizzard. Ice storm. Something winter."

Bruce knew Lex was right, and it pleased him on some level to know he got to see a side of Lex few people ever did. "You're pale, Lex, not cold. You radiate energy."

"You're the only one who'd say that." The undertone of acrimony wasn't lost on Bruce. He edged a little closer, felt the blankets shift as Lex did the same. Closer, but not touching. No matter what they did, they seemed to end up together.

"What would Clark say?" Bruce hadn't meant it as a double-edged question, but he could feel Lex stiffen at the insinuation. They were in bed together again, and even if they weren't having sex, they'd come pretty close tonight. Clark would never understand, and Bruce knew it wasn't fair to expect him to. They were going to have to learn to draw lines. Somehow.

"I don't know. I've never played this game with him."

"Maybe you should."

Lex shook his head, the cotton sheets rustling around him. "It's your turn."

Bruce decided to let the topic die a natural death. Obviously Lex and Clark would work things out on their own time, in their own way. "If you were a breed of dog--"

"Let me guess. Mexican hairless."

"Please--too obvious."

"Lab?"

"Clever, but no."

Lex leaned a little closer. "If you call me a bitch, this friendship is officially over."

Bruce laughed. "A whippet."

"Interesting choice." Lex seemed pleased. "Why?"

"Slim, but powerful. Strong lines, elegant, fast. Whippets make me think of you."

"That's actually kind of sweet, Bruce." Lex let out a small yawn.

"Well, whips make me think of you too," Bruce finished grinning wickedly, as Lex shifted and rolled over. Bruce automatically went to wrap his arm around Lex's waist, and caught himself with his hand an inch from Lex's body.

Lex glanced at him over his shoulder. "It's okay. I think I can behave if you can."

"You know, Lex, we'll always have a history. But since you met Clark all you've talked about is destiny." Bruce slid closer, feeling Lex's bare skin against his chest. "Don't confuse the two."

"I'll do my best," Lex mumbled.

"Go to sleep, Lex."

It was something he'd said a thousand times and it always seemed to have the same effect. Lex relaxed against him, his breaths deepening as Bruce held him close.

They would both sleep well tonight.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> For more information on the complete series, please see the first story in any of the _Shadows & Stone_ series.
> 
> Originally posted in November/December 2004. Revised and reposted January 2005.
> 
> Note: In this universe, Bruce's parents were stabbed to death in an alley. Bruce was with them, and sustained a knife wound. He carries the scar on his left side.


End file.
